All the ward's a stage: a surgeon's sonnet

Dear doctor, do not let Queen Sadness rule,

you did preside and lent your well-honed skills.

The God who guarded you while still in school

is also master of the people's ills.

You are a friend, I know it from your words,

you did not walk away without a glance.

And I suspect that two small hummingbirds

disguised as tears fell to your chest to dance.

Without compassion man is just a fool

who loves the emptiness inside stale air

and uses all his talents like a mule;

a great conformist but without a care.

Yes you must go and carry still your torch

and let it burn so brightly as to light,

when during leisure you rest on your porch

your strength renews for any future fight.

If, for some time you feel an aching heart

it will renew the fibres of your soul,

rejoice my friend, this science is an art

it is immersion that will make you whole.

Conflict of Interest:

None declared